Today, while coloring my hair to get ready for my big Canada trip, I discovered that my roots are almost entirely gray. Seriously? I'm not a baby boomer! I'm the last of the Gen-X'ers! A few gray hairs would be fine, but y'all, I'm Betty Freakin' White. Emphasis on the white. The root touch up stuff might not cut it anymore. There are so many roots now that an entire bottle of color is going to be required. Am I too old now for pink streaks? For multiple ear piercings? OH MY GODS, am I going to have to give up flip-flops? Crap.

Other symptoms of old age:

The arthritis (YES, arthritis!!) in my wrists has gotten so bad that if I paint for a couple of hours, or write with a pen, the pain is so extreme that I have to wear non-flexible wrist braces and take heavy(ish) drugs to keep from weeping.

I think teenage boys have stupid hair.

The music of my adolescence is on the oldies station.

My favorite TV shows from high school and college are on Nick-at-Nite.

She's the size 12 model who won American Apparel's "plus size" (XL) modeling contest. But they didn't like her, and so chose a non-winner instead. 'Cause they're jerkfaces. She also has a blog. Which is awesome.

In case you don’t know her,
let me introduce you to the modern lady liberty:

The average American woman
makes less than 30 grand a year,
masturbates at least twice a week - at least! -
has a crush on George Cloony, Johnny Depp, or that guy from Mad Men,
believes in gay marriage and the right to choose what happens in their nuclear reactors,
and doesn’t believe in prayer to save us now.
And while we can say
that we love the size of our breasts
and that we are comfortable naked,
even with the lights on-
on any given day in the United States,
approximately half of the women are on a diet.

So, the President of the United States was assassinated on your watch yesterday. Not just any president either, a pretty good one! And while, we'd really like to just kick you out of the Union and be done with it, you have most of the oil, cattle and cotton. We like those things, so you get to stay.

However, you have to be punished for what really amounts to negligent homicide. Really, you didn't think to check for snipers in tall buildings?? Anyway, we've decided that an appropriate action is to pass a law saying that nobody born in, or claiming Texas as his/her home state can run for president. We wanted to make it FOREVER, but have decided to say 100 years. Surely you guys will have straightened up by then.

And yeah, we realize that Lyndon Johnson is from Texas, but he slipped in before we thought to write the law. Too late now...what's the worst that could happen?

Yours Sincerely,

The Members of Congress, The Supreme Court and the Pope, for good measure.

{{Appx. 18 months later, the office of the letter writer...

Aw crap, he did what? Vietnam? Who joins a land war in Asia? Crazy Texans. Thank goodness -that- won't happen again!}}

A neighbor around the corner from us has this in her (his? I don't know) window.

Apologies for the picture quality, it was taken sneakily, with my phone.

You're looking at a baby doll-- dressed as a patriotic teddy bear, a gigantic "support our troops" sticker, a four of clubs with a picture of Elvis Presley on it, a parade flag and a greeting card with (I think) some sort of prayer or Bible verse on it.

Every few weeks the collection grows. It started out as just the creepy baby. Since I took the picture, it's expanded to include her front door as well, with a peeling flag sticker, and a badly tied, yellow-mylar ribbon that looks like it might have been rescued after a baby shower. Or from the dumpster.

Initially we assumed that she had a husband/son/brother/sister/daughter/lover/whatever in Iraq or somewhere, but that doesn't explain the Elvis card or the prayer thing. And why are these things in the window? Creeps me out. Especially the baby. I might have to put a call into Hoarders about this.

A. Age: 30 (eeeek!) B. Bed size: Queen. I'd like a king, so that I can sleep diagonally without crowding Marlowe.C. Chore that you hate: Laundry. I wouldn't hate it if we had a washer/dryer in the house though.D. Dogs: Marlowe and Maybe.E. Essential start to your day: Diet CokeF. Favorite color: It changes pretty regularly. Right now I like gray and magenta.G. Gold or Silver: Silver. Gold makes me look jaundiced. H. Height: 5’6" I. Instruments you play: Currently, I don't play anything, but I've dabbled in piano, harp and clarinet.J. Job title: None. I'm free as a bird right now.K. Kids: Not for me, but I like them, on an individual basis. L. Live: Lubbock, Texas.M. Mother’s name: I have two moms. (Not in the fun, lesbian way. Unfortunately.) They are Sharon and Sussan. In order of appearance in my life.N. Nicknames: Bee, Susy, Susalou.O. Overnight hospital stays: One for pneumonia when I was 5 or 6.

P. Pet peeves: When people ask me for advice and then don't do what I tell them to. Actually, people not doing what I tell them to, in general. I'm bossy.Q. Quote from a movie:" I had tempted fate, and fate had accepted." (Sarah, The End of the Affair.) Also: "I hate you, God. I hate you as though you existed!" (Maurice, also from The End of the Affair).R. Right or left handed: A little of both, but I usually write with my right.S. Siblings: 4 younger siblings. 2 brothers, two sisters.T. Time you wake up: Eh, whenever. I seem to be on some sort of cycle. Trying to switch to a day schedule for my trip to Cape Breton.U. Underwear: Typically, black "hipster" panties.V. Vegetable you hate: All those weird textured legumes. Lima, wax, butter beans, etc. Blech.W. What makes you run late: Bad hair days.X. X-Rays you’ve had: Both arms, full back, both legs, ankles...pretty much everything. Someday I'll start glowing.Y. Yummy food that you make: Chicken tacos, great spaghetti, chicken enchiladas, Poppyseed chicken. Twice baked potatoes.Those are all the things I can make.Z. Zoo animal: Giraffes are my favorite. I also love llamas, alpacas and okapis. All the things with long necks.

I have always been unsatisfied with life as most people live it. Always, I want to live more intensely and richly. Why muck & conceal one's true longings and loves, when by speaking of them, one might find someone to understand them; and by acting on them, one might discover oneself.